Ramji’s father gave her a long stare and she could tell he wasn’t exactly sure how to process her statement. The anticipation for a response continued to build. There were only two possible outcomes in her mind: either he accepted it, or he didn’t.
‘That’s a very straightforward way to perceive the situation,’ Shoroux chimed in.
‘It’s the only way for things to progress,’ Ramji thought. ‘Father is a scientist like I am, and that means we both believe in absolutes. Backed by evidence, of course.’
Trescoise crossed his arms. “How?” He finally uttered. “How do you expect to prove the validity of that statement to me?”
Ramji felt the tension release from her body. If he wanted proof, that meant he was willing to listen and to accept. It wasn’t the outcome she was expecting, but it was a welcome one for sure. She went through the different routes she could take. Her hand waved across the air.
“Rouwintou,” She said confidently as the air began to shift into steam. She waved it back across and changed the steam into a block of gold. It fell to the ground with a high-pitched ring. Before her father could respond, she tapped the gold. ‘Rouxalli.’
The block changed to a deep shade of pink, then purple, and finally settled on mint. Ramji stepped back and let her father observe her work. He timidly picked up the bar and looked it over from every angle. “This is beyond my comprehension. The particulate matter needed to assemble gold’s composition shouldn’t be able to manifest from the air. You’ve also managed to adjust the pigment of its natural chemical makeup.”
“I basically tell Shoroux what I want to do and they help me break things down. I can see a variety of different forms of matter. It’s all like clay in my hands,” Ramji explained.
“And the engine? Did… Shoroux… tell you how to activate it as well?” Her father inquired.
Ramji looked back at the shimmering ethereal door behind her. She recalled Shoroux’s warning. “Yes, but they said that only I can know what’s inside. I cannot relay any of that information to you, nor can you venture in yourself.”
A look of skeptical displeasure crossed her father’s face. She could tell that it hurt him to be left out of the picture, but that he also understood things were entirely out of his control. He placed his hands on her shoulders.
“Ramji, I will be straightforward with you. I don’t trust Shoroux, nor any of the other gods. When one being holds so much power in our world, it’s easy to use it all for the wrong things. Tomekeepers are not a blessing, my daughter. They are a curse. They’re bound to serve. Do not fall so easily for the temptations of power that godhood can provide, for at the end of the day, you are mortal and they are not. They will revive, yet you only get one chance at life.”
Ramji felt her stomach sink. She had miscalculated his actions and what she thought was a chance at approval. Trescoise traced the lines of his palm with his finger, once again deep in thought.
“That being said,” He continued, “I cannot in good faith let you pass up this opportunity to observe the realm beyond our own. Even if I can’t be there with you physically, I’m with you in heart and spirit. What I want most is for you to grow and learn and develop your own experiences and your own hypotheses. Be your own scientist, Ramji. So go, while the gate is still open. I believe in you.”
Ramji nodded in acknowledgement and turned to face the gate. Her assumption was right after all. She heard Shoroux’s voice echo in her mind. ‘Are you ready to bear witness to the other side, Tomekeeper?’
Ramji walked up to the gate and pressed her hand through. The light formed a thin membrane that broke as she pushed, then swallowed her hand into what felt like a cold gel. She took a breath, gave her father a small wave and stepped forward into the unknown. The slime of the membrane slipped over her body and coated her as she entered a vast pale pink chamber. Purple and blue particles, no bigger than specks of dust, swirled with every step that she took.
“Welcome to my domain,” Shoroux’s voice reverberated around Ramji. The floor, ceiling and every wall seemed to be talking to her at once. It overwhelmed her senses, and panic set in as she realized she couldn’t breath. Every breath she tried to take filled her lungs with the acrid-tasting gel.
“Please relax, Tomekeeper. There is no need for air here. Your body will adapt accordingly,” Shoroux informed her. “You will not be able to speak, as sound in the way that you understand it does not carry. I can still hear your thoughts, however.”
‘What is this place?’ Ramji mentally questioned. Her lungs felt full, but she tried not to pay attention to the unnatural lack of breathing. Her body as a whole felt like it was wading through an invisible ocean. ‘How am I able to survive here?’
“The aether adapts to all those that inhabit it,” Shoroux put forth. “It is life itself, melting and molding and manifesting. Such is the power and beauty of our existence. We are all filled with the cosmic matter that makes up the universe. Here in this realm there is no hunger, no thirst, no need to breathe. You exist, and that is all you need to do. Let me show you.”
The ground shook beneath Ramji’s feet and made her body buzz. The ceiling pulled away from the walls, and Ramji realized she was on a platform. As it descended, the walls evaporated into brushstrokes of twinkling stars. She watched as the shining gems of the night shrank down into dotted landscapes coated in hues of red, blue, pink, and purple. Whole galaxies assembled like paintings before her eyes.
“Is it not beautiful?” Shoroux asked.
‘It’s more beautiful than I could have ever imagined,’ Ramji answered in awe. ‘Is this what it’s like when we look out into the sky? Is this what awaits us past our own world?’
“There’s so much out there, Tomekeeper. It’s more than you could ever see or learn about in a lifetime. To truly appreciate the beauty of it all, though, I must also show you the darker side. The creatures that live in the shadows are more than a normal person can handle, which is why we must be careful.”
‘Wait, what exactly do you mean?’ Ramji tried to clarify, but it was too late. The stars around her zoomed by and fizzled into a deeper black than she had ever seen before. The light that enveloped her, no doubt Shoroux’s doing, was the only thing that broke through the shadows. That was when she first saw them. They were tentacled monstrosities with mouths that ripped open into three-pronged jaws and marigold pearls for eyes. Further beyond them were even more creatures, but Ramji’s mind couldn’t fully decipher their shape and features. She felt something worse than fear settle within her. It was frigid and lifeless, like her very soul had left her and was replaced by death’s embrace. Tears formed in her eyes and a crushing weight sat in her chest.
‘Shoroux, I can’t take much more,’ Ramji barely managed to think past the emotional distress. ‘I feel whatever this presence is eating away at me.’
“I understand, keeper. We will return once our connection has been strengthened.”
The platform rotated and lifted back to its original position. The images, and the emotions attached to them, faded away into the pink of the chamber. Ramji tried to let out her breath and called attention back to the lack of air in her lungs. She had enough of the aether. The wall furthest from her slid open to reveal the gateway.
“Before you go, Tomekeeper, remember: no one can know what you have seen here today. All it will do is cause chaos.”
Ramji pressed her hand against the gate. It was time to return to the comfort and safety of her home. ‘There’s nothing to worry about, Shoroux,’ Ramji thought in response. ‘I couldn’t subject anyone else to this.’
_______________________________________________________________________
Silban waited patiently in the courtyard for Reviticus to join him. The sound of the birds chirping at the edge of the stone fountain mixed with the flowing water. Bright pink and yellow asters waved in the breeze, and travertine tiles made up the courtyard’s flooring. Silban tapped his foot against the tile when the flap of wings from above caught his attention. He looked up and saw the glistening armor of his brother drop down in front of him.
Reveticus shook off his ultramarine wings, tipped with black and silver feathers, and created a gust of wind around them. “Good morning, Silban. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting for long.”
“Of course not, brother,” Silban responded. “I figured you would be busy. Thank you for taking the time to converse with me.”
“I’ll always find time for you and Trebellard. Speaking of Trebellard, where is our youngest counterpart?”
Silban pulled out a folded piece of parchment emblazoned with the crescent logo of the Vishwarn Military School and handed it to his brother. Reveticus opened it, glanced over the hasty handwriting, then tucked it inside of his chestplate. “It seems like he’s going to outrank us both by the time he graduates. Quite an achievement,” Reveticus chuckled.
Silban forced a laugh, but his heart wasn’t in it. While he was happy for his younger brother, he couldn’t help but feel a bit of envy at the same time. Reveticus was a hero in Silban’s mind, and deservedly so, but Trebellard was the definition of failing upward. He was by far the least dedicated to the Awn family’s role as the Monarch’s personal guard and constantly complained about wanting something different in life. Despite his ungrateful attitude, Trebellard was hand-picked to attend Vishwarn. The cabinet of the school said his tactical brilliance was unparalleled. That left Silban stuck between a war hero and a military prodigy, the middle child often forgotten when the Awn’s and their achievements were mentioned.
“That reminds me,” Reveticus continued. “I wanted to give proper congratulations on leading the Banquet of Tomes. It’s quite an honor indeed. I look forward to seeing your preparations in full.”
“I’ll do my best not to let you down, brother. After all, it’s only a matter of time before our great goddess chooses you. I did have one concern, though, if I may share.”
“Share away, little brother.”
“I’m slightly worried that all these preparations will be for naught. I don’t know about these other Tomekeepers, and I can’t speak for their character at all. What if they decide they want to ruin the night or make a mockery of our kingdom?”
“Then it’s up to you to put your foot down, Silban,” Reveticus asserted. “The Monarch chose you for this task because he sees your potential, much like he saw mine. You are strong, loyal and, above all, unyielding. Show them the might of the Awn family and keep them in their place.”
Silban took a moment to reflect on the words of his older brother. They were short, but Silban could see the truth in them. There was no time or place for self-doubt when it came to the Banquet of Tomes. There had already been whispers in the air about the strength of the monarchy and Prodigium’s continued hold as the capital of Lidaesea. He needed to show all the Tomekeepers, and the nations that backed them, that Prodigium was still a kingdom of preparation, fortitude, and leadership.
“When you’re back out of your thoughts, I have a request for you,” Reveticus said to him.
Silban snapped back to attention. “What is it, brother?”
Reveticus drew his weapon, a longsword with a blade the same colors and style as his wings, and pressed it into the travertine. “I want to see how much your sparring skills have progressed since our last match. It’s been a couple of years, has it not?”
“Here?” Silban said as he looked around the courtyard. “There’s barely enough space for us to move and talk, let alone swing a sword.”
Reveticus let out a hearty hero’s laugh. “No, of course not. I want to challenge you to aerial combat.”
With that, Reveticus flapped his wings and launched into the sky with another gust. The force made Silban wobble slightly and the asters shoot into the air. Silban smirked and drew his arming sword, a standard among the forces of the Wingsong. There was nothing like friendly competition between brothers to help build bonds. Silban stretched out his own wings and gave them a flap before launching through the cloud of pink and yellow flowers and into the azure blue above.
_______________________________________________________________________
Utic pulled on his chains as Yonni froze them, snapping them with a loud crack. Her movement was still troubled, but she seemed to be getting better footing as time passed by. He flung off the remains and thanked her before turning to the ladder next to them. There was no doubt that Orghov and his men had heard their escape and would make their way down at any moment. He signaled for Yonni to stay silent. The two crouched on the ladder’s opposite end.
Loud thumps sounded from the deck, followed by shouts from whom Utic could only assume were Orghov’s men. Utic glanced around the hull in preparation while Yonni inched closer, her head tilted upward to listen. Utic felt horrible for getting her caught up in their situation. They had just met and she had already gifted him her trust. While he couldn’t have ever predicted Orghov’s betrayal, he knew he should have tried harder to protect Yonni from harm. He had to find a way to make things right.
The hatch above them creaked open and a body fell through the opening. It hit the ground with a thump and rolled. Utic didn’t need light to know that it was Orghov’s. Confusion arose. A man in silver armor dropped down afterward, a magnificent broadsword coated in white flames gripped in his hands. He turned to face the two Tomekeepers, his eyes glowing with an identical magical energy. Yonni braced for a fight, but Utic wasn’t sure if he should do the same.
‘There is no need to fear, Utic,’ Verna confirmed with unease behind her words. ‘This one will not hurt you. It’s against his better nature.’
“You two,” the man called out. His eyes flickered back to a deep brown and his body relaxed. The sword in his hands lowered slightly and shifted back into a smaller form. “Are either of you hurt?”
“Tell us who you are and why you’re here. Now!” Yonni commanded.
“I’m here to rescue you, of course,” The man replied. Utic could feel a sense of magic start to emit from the stranger’s body. The latter sheathed his sword and held his hands up. “My name is Tuvhe Vull. I’m a Tomekeeper as well. I was passing through when I felt your presence.”
“How did you sense us?” Yonni pressed. “Why can we barely feel yours?”
“It seems that I’ve been more selective in my usage of our abilities. At least, that’s what my god is telling me,” Tuvhe said.
Utic stepped around and examined Orghov’s body. He had been run clean through with Tuvhe’s broadsword. Utic felt sadness and a sense of pity for the old man, and wished things had turned out differently. He reached down and plucked the sapphire pin from Orgov’s jacket. Yonni continued to question their savior.
“And what god is that? Who are you partnered to?”
“Eslen,” Utic answered before Tuvhe could. He had heard a few things about the god of judgment, as stories traveled through the dunes from Sennan settlers. They all had one thing in common: A trail of bodies was always left behind.
“The Betrayer?” Yonni exclaimed. “And we’re supposed to trust that you won’t take our lives as well?”
Tuvhe ran a gauntleted hand through his greasy hair. “Eslen says that you can ask Drinex. The gods that chose you two are the only ones he considered, for lack of a better word, friends.”
‘He’s right, though the word “friends” is definitely a stretch of the imagination,’ Verna told Utic. ‘I would instead say that our paths have been aligned for a couple of cycles.’
“Verna tells me he’s okay, Yonni. But what about Drinex?” Utic asked her.
Yonni wrinkled her nose at Tuvhe. “Drinex says you’re fine, for now. But I’m still keeping a close eye on you. I’ve already been fooled once.”
Tuvhe looked down at Orghov’s body and turned back to Yonni. “That situation has been taken care of. This Pyrolite and his friends have been judged accordingly for their crimes, many of which you don’t want to know.”
“So where does that leave us? We don’t even know where we are,” Utic piped in.
Tuvhe faced him. “You’re in the Crystalands, but if you’ve been given the same task I have, I would think that you’re both in need of a ride to Prodigium. Am I correct?”
Utic glanced toward Yonni and shrugged. He was more than happy to join forces with another Tomekeeper, especially one that had come to rescue them, but the decision ultimately rested with the Princess. Whatever she decided, and wherever she went, he was determined to follow.
Yonni huffed and gave them both an annoyed look. “I’ll go along, but I’m keeping an eye on you, Mister Betrayer. One wrong move, and you’re iced.”
Tuvhe extended his hand toward Utic and Yonni. Utic shook it warily, as did Yonni while they introduced themselves.
“Now that the pleasantries have passed, I have a small favor to ask,” Yonni said.
“What’s that?” Tuvhe questioned.
“Would either of you be willing to help me up the ladder?”
_______________________________________________________________________
Verina impatiently tapped the edge of the tiny boat as it slipped into the harbor. She had long heard that Prodigium was a city of vibrant sights that put even Selenti to shame, yet none of that mattered in the veiled shadows of its seedier districts. While it wasn’t Verina’s preferred way to enter the capital, it was a necessity. There was no way the Wingsong would let a Terrolaff waltz through the city’s gates. It was too risky to all those inside and, to be fair, they weren’t wrong. Fwen was smart to think about such things in advance.
The Noctide smuggler they hired in Selenti looked around to ensure the coast was clear. The bandage on his hand was stained with dried crimson. “It looks like you two are good to continue,” He said. “The inn you requested should be around the corner.”
Fwen stood up and stepped from the boat onto the dock without a word. Their entire trip thus far had been silent, not that Verina minded. The Noctide was too scared to talk, and Fwen seemed to be planning their next steps. Verina grabbed the two chests they had brought along and followed Fwen out of the boat.
“Hey, wait a minute,” The smuggler called after them. “Your parents said that you would be the one to finish things up once we got here.”
Fwen stopped. “You’re right,” She said without looking back. “Verina, finish things for me, please.”
Verina dropped the chests and faced the smuggler. He stepped back in terror. She could smell its sweet scent like the waft of a freshly-baked pie. The Terrolaff licked her lips, withdrew her dagger and leapt toward the smuggler. He tried to run back to the boat, but she tossed her blade at his leg. It caught and he fell against the dock. Verina picked her dagger up and kicked the smuggler over. She slashed the blade against his chest.
“Scream for me,” Verina ordered. “Scream as loud as you can, but know that no one will come to save you.”
The Noctide begged and pleaded for mercy, his cries becoming louder and more desperate with every slash. Verina drowned him out with her own deranged laughter. She was tired of her desires being pent up. She shoved the smuggler’s body into the river after she had her fill of fun.
‘I’ll leave that for the Wingsong,’ She thought. ‘A welcome gift of sorts.’
‘That kill was delicious, Tomekeeper,’ Istio commented. ‘You’ve starved me for too long, though. I need more. Much more.’
Verina could feel it too - the horrid pangs of a violent thirst unquenched. She slipped her dagger back into its sheath and followed after Fwen and the chests. “Soon, my goddess,” Verina promised. “Just let me get settled in first.”
Verina caught up to Fwen as they rounded the corner and came to the door of the Inn. It was exactly what she expected for something in the less-than-reputable area of Prodigium - run down, dark and a stone’s throw away from something terrible happening. It was perfect, at least for the moment. Fwen opened the door and went straight to the counter without looking around. Verina felt her presence had potentially lured Fwen into a false sense of security. While she was happy to step in and handle any potential problems at the moment, she didn’t want to be seen as Fwen’s permanent hired muscle. There was no way she was going to be a pawn in someone else’s game.
Fwen grabbed the key from the desk clerk - an angry older man with a crooked back and an eye patch - and waved it at Verina. “Is the third floor alright with you?”
Verina nodded and Fwen walked over to drop her chest off in front of her. Verina lifted it up and followed her fellow Tomekeeper up the stairs and to their room. As Fwen opened the door, the smell of mildew and old carpet escaped. The room itself was a dusty square with barely enough space for the two beds insides, and a single window was boarded up in the middle.
“Do you think that’s to keep things out, or keep us in?” Verina asked jokingly.
Fwen snickered and shook the dust from her cloak. “From everything we’ve seen tonight, I’d say to sleep with one eye open.”
‘I see you’re spending time playing around when you could be finding our next prey,’ Istio snidely commented.
Verina’s heart pounded a little faster. ‘My apologies, Istio. I’ll leave now.’
Verina dropped her chest off at the foot of her bed and started to make her way back toward the door.
“You’re not going to rest?” Fwen asked with a touch of concern in her voice. “We’re going to have quite a busy day tomorrow.”
“I will, here in a moment,” Verina responded. “I need a bit of fresh air first.”
Fwen’s eyes narrowed. “Was the air on the boat ride over here not fresh enough?”
Verina hesitated and thought her response through. “I meant that I need to stretch my legs. There hasn’t been much space to walk around on the ship and that boat barely fit us as it was. I think I may have pulled something when I took care of our payment problem.”
Fwen tossed her head back onto the rickety bed and closed her eyes. “I understand. Just try not to be seen.”
Verina slipped out the door and closed it. She let out a soft sigh on the other end. Her hands were shaking for some unknown reason.
‘Is there a reason you’re so nervous, keeper?’ Istio hissed. ‘You’ve been a little too obedient recently. Remember, this is a partnership and not a job. We don't submit to anyone else.’
Verina tried to think of a response to Istio, but couldn’t formulate one that made sense. It was hard to explain something that she herself didn’t fully understand. She squeezed her hands into tight fists and relaxed them. The shaking subsided, and it was time to hunt.
_______________________________________________________________________
Fwen kept her eyes closed for a long while after Verina left, but her mind couldn’t relax. She saw right through Verina’s lies and the trembling of her hands. She was hiding something, and it was obvious. As long as she was out and about, most likely looking for another poor person to stab, she was a danger to their plans. Fwen had traveled too far across land and sea to get thrown into a Prodigium jail cell so close to the end of their journey. As helpful as Verina was to have around, Fwen had no hesitation in leaving her behind if the situation arose.
“I was worried you were becoming too attached to the pet,” Netot said.
Fwen opened her mouth to respond, then realized that the voice wasn’t in her head. She jolted up and looked around for the source. Her cloak lay undisturbed under her.
“I’m over here, Tomekeeper,” Netot’s voice drifted from the front of the bed. Fwen scooted closer and saw a collection of small purple particles mixed amongst the dust. It pulled together slowly but surely into a translucent ball. Fwen wasn’t sure what was happening, or even how.
“You don’t feel it, keeper? The energy radiating from Ghantei’s castle?” Netot inquired. “We’re close to the tomes. I can pull some energy off of the fringe of their power.”
“And that allows you to manifest in our realm?” Fwen tried to piece together.
“In a way. It wouldn’t be conducive to be restricted to your inner thoughts, but only you can see me in my current form. Consider it a trait of our bond.”
“Tell me, Netot: Does this mean that you’ll be able to reach a full physical state again?”
Netot took a moment to respond. “We’ve never been successful in attuning to our original forms. Ghantei separated us from our dying bodies. All we have is our spiritual essence.”
“And no one has tried to find a way to help?”
“Many have asked the same questions you do now, Fwen Inati. All have failed in their efforts.”
Fwen reached out and touched the orb body of Netot. Her hand passed through it, turning the particles of the orb into a dense mist. There had to be a way to bring Netot back, and Fwen was determined to find it. After all, having a god in the physical realm was much more powerful than just being their spokesperson. The orb reassembled and glided over to the other end of the room.
“I will be here while you rest,” Netot informed her. “Death sleeps for no one, and I have been locked up long enough.”
There was something morbid about the god of death watching over Fwen while she slept, but she also found comfort in the idea. Maybe it was the fact that she had been raised to worship Death as an entity, or maybe it was that she felt empowered over mortality because of her connection to Netot. Regardless, Death needed her. She laid her head sideways against the bed, wrapped her cloak around her like a blanket, and fell into a deep slumber.
_______________________________________________________________________
Zall woke up on top of a thin, wooden cot that reeked of hay. As he rubbed his eyes, the orange haze of a candle by the bedside helped illuminate the granite walls around him. Water dripped from cracks above and gathered in pools on the cobblestone floors. A single wooden bucket was tossed haphazardly in the corner. The only way in or out was a door in the far left side with a slat in the middle.
‘Hey, the keeper’s awake,’ Hilaster noted, his voice clear despite the loud ringing that plagued Zall’s left ear. “It looks like we got tossed in the dungeons. They couldn’t even give us a normal cell up top.’
“You just let them drag me down here? Why didn’t you take over when I got knocked out and slaughter them all?” Zall questioned aloud, incensed.
‘I can’t do that, keeper. There are lots of rules about taking over your body, even in emergency situations. I don’t want to get on Ghantei’s bad side. The best we can do is lend our power, but you’re only able to receive about a quarter of that in your current state,’ Hilaster explained.
“So what’s the plan then?” Zall pressed.
‘The same thing it has always been,’ Hilaster replied. ‘Get the tome, burn Lidaesea down. I doubt these walls are strong enough to withhold a focused blast.’
Zall checked the room for options. The door seemed like the most obvious route of escape, and that most likely meant plenty of guards on the other end. As much as he yearned for bloodshed, Hilaster was right. There would be plenty of time for battle once he claimed what was rightfully his. The thought of what his abilities could do at full power made a sinister smile creep up his lips. He checked the ceiling, but it seemed to be too weak. Blasting it down would probably cause more harm than good, and perhaps even a whole structural collapse. Zall walked around the room in a deep focus.
The feeling of cool air tickled his fingertips as he ran his hands across the granite walls. It was a trace amount, almost unnoticeable, but it was definitely there. He dropped to a knee and ran his hands around the rough surface of the wall to look for the source. He felt a small hole, barely bigger than a coin.
“There’s a draft, which means that air is able to pass through from somewhere up above,” Zall deduced. “I’d bet that there’s a way to get out of here on the other side of this stone.”
‘Let’s find out,’ Hilaster egged on. ‘Bust it open.’
Zall held out his hand and closed his eyes. ‘Hilasuun.’
A spark of fire flitted from his fingertips and rolled into a ball that he slipped into the hole. It sizzled and expanded, cracking the wall until it exploded into a pile of gray rubble. Zall stepped through the breach and into a cobweb-ridden dirt tunnel on the other end. It stretched as far as he could see.
‘You were right, keeper. Well done,’ Hilaster complimented.
“They were fools to think they could keep me locked inside some dingy chamber,” Zall said. He could feel the prickle of energy and anticipation washing over his body. “It’s time to head to the castle and show them who we really are.”
_______________________________________________________________________
Ramji pulled herself through the gelatinous membrane of the aether gate and fell to the ground. Her lungs kicked back in and begged for air. She coughed heavily, gripping her body as the feeling of gravity settled back into her bones. It was like being born anew.
Trescoise sat in a crooked wooden chair, face buried in his hands. He seemed pallid and tired. He lifted his head up, then leapt up at the sight of her. “Ramji!”
Ramji tried to pull herself up but her legs couldn’t hold her weight. She fell back to the cold limestone floor. Her father wrapped her arm around his shoulder and lifted her up, then accompanied her to the chair. She dropped into it with a heavy sigh.
“Ramji, you’re alive!” He said with bewilderment. “I had hope but I wasn’t sure. The gate wouldn’t let me pass, so I sat here and waited just in case you made it back through. My body wouldn’t take much more.”
Ramji gave him a puzzled look. The heavy bags under his eyes were confirmation that something was wrong. “What do you mean? I’ve only been gone for a few minutes, father.”
Trescoise sat on his knees and returned her expression with a dark stare. “Ramji, you’ve been gone for almost a fortnight. Did it not feel like it on the other side? They’ve been waiting for your return, as have I.”
Ramji wiped the slime from her glasses. “They?”
The sound of metal on tile and the ruffle of feathers drew her attention to the doorway where five Celenians entered with their swords drawn. The Celenian in front placed both hands on her hilt. She was an imposing blonde with an asymmetrical haircut, dark green eyes and matching pair of wings clung to her back.
“Ramji Wrine, Tomekeeper of Shoroux, we’ve come to escort you from Casis to Prodigium on orders from His Excellency. Please come willingly, as I would hate to use force.”
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